Morgase's Hideout in Russia

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Morgase Prince

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Morgase gave a small sigh as she looked around the tiny flat she was staying in in Russia. She had run off without telling anyone she was leaving, needing to get away from a few select people. Looking down at her parchment, she mused over what to write for a few moments before dipping her quill into the ink pot and beginning her letter.
Tristan,
I apologize for my sudden absence, but I felt the need to get away.  Things were getting so complicated and unbearable for me, and I was afraid of what would happen if I stayed any longer.  My feelings for you had finally gotten to me, and I could no longer bear to watch Lissandra coddle you and brag about her pregnancy.  I needed to distance myself from her, and more importantly from you.  I hope you understand.  Please do not tell Sammael where I am, or about this letter at all.  The last thing I need at this moment is to deal with him.  I am doing some important work over here, and I refuse to let him sabotage that.  I wish I could say when I will return, but at this point I am not sure if I ever will.

With love,
Morgase
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Morgase folded and sealed the letter and whistled, her owl flying in to land on the table before her. "For Tristan," she said to the owl as she tied the letter to its leg. As the owl flew off Morgase watched it, her thoughts lingering on Tristan.
 
Being tired of Drage Herrogard, Tristan apparated to where he knew Morgase was, appearing before her, his expression dark and confused. "Hello," he said quietly.
 
Morgase did not jump, nor even look up from the book she was reading as Tristan appeared before her as she sat on a couch in her flat. "Hello Tristan," she said without emotion, still looking down at her book. After a few seconds she closed the book and set it upon the end table, exchanging it for the glass of red wine on the table. Morgase turned her black eyes on Tristan, staring coldly at him. "What brings you out here?" She brought the glass to her lips and took a sip of her wine as she waited for his response.
 
"Nothing," Tristan replied. "Boredom, I guess. And the fact that you just sent me a letter. If you're going to do that, don't sign it with your name. I'm living in the exact same place as Sammael."
 
"All the more reason to sign my name. If you cannot keep a simple letter from reaching Sammae's eyes, then you deserve to be subject to his wrath. I must say I would not entirely feel bad for you. What is it like to live with Sammael again? Bring back loving memories of your childhood?" Morgase's expression remained harsh, her voice even and cold as she stared unblinkingly at Tristan.
 
"Nope, he's actually pretty decent," Tristan snapped back. "Don't worry, I kept the letter from him; he thinks it's from Lissandra." He smirked; he knew that she hated to hear that name.
 
Morgase's eyes filled with rage as her brows furrowed. "Why are you here Tristan? If it is to brag you can leave now. I do not appreciate being mocked."
 
"I'm not bragging," he snapped, "But since my presence is obviously not appreciated in any way shape or form, I will leave." He turned to leave, but paused for a moment to see if she would say anything.
 
"I never said you had to leave. I would enjoy it if you stayed. It is nice to see a familiar face." Morgase's tone had softened considerably, her expression returning to its normal blank slate.
 
Tristan's dark gaze disappeared, his tone softening. "Same here," he said quietly. "I have missed you."
 
"I have missed you as well. I have been missing you since Lissandra came along. I still cannot believe you did that." Morgase figured bringing up Lissandra was a bad idea, but she needed to know why he had done it.
 
Tristan's eyes narrowed, but his expression was apologetic. "I figured that you were content with Sammael. He is my cousin after all, not to mention your husband."
 
"Had I known what you were to become I would not have married Sammael. You and I were not exactly close in school. I suppose you could say I was content, but I would have thought you were better than to be with Lissandra."
 
"I'm not with her anymore," Tristan replied quietly. He couldn't say the same about Lorelei, about not having married her. If their paths had never crossed, maybe. But she was dead and gone, and he had to carry on with his life.
 
"Break her heart did you? She just could not stop gushing about you and how happy she was to be having a baby with you. I cannot imagine she took the rejection well." Morgase could not say she felt sorry for Tristan and her expression showed it. She tilted her head back to take in the rest of her wine, setting the empty glass on the table.
 
"It just happened," he said quietly, "I'm going to take part in raising that kid just as much as she is. But her and I are not meant to be." He gazed at Morgase, waiting for her to reply.
 
"I wouldn't mind something to drink, now that I think of it," Tristan mused. "I'm parched.." He took a seat on one of her elaborate couches, gazing back at her intensely.
 
"I'll settle for anything," he said quietly. "I have vodka entirely too much, anyways. I really need to watch that."
 
"You would think your tolerance would be better with how much you drink," Morgase said with a smirk as she poured some wine into an empty glass. She stood and walked to Tristan, handing him the glass before sitting down in a chair diagonal to him. "So, how did things go at the Manor?"
 
Tristan's expression faltered. "Not well. We had them all under control for a while, until Estrella escaped. She blew up your hallway. And then everything went downhill. She came back with I don't know how many friends, including your daughter's boyfriend, and succeeded in getting your daughter and the Malfoy girl out of there. I admit, an embarrassment. Considering how many of us were there. Sammael was angrier than I've ever seen him before."

He smirked. "Stark Manor is in need of some major construction. That's why we're all staying at Drage Herrogard now. And because of the fact that the ministry is following us."
 
Morgase pondered this for a moment, glad she had not been present for those events. "Your daughter has quite the spirit. I suppose Sammael has thought up a wonderful excuse for himself?"
 
"I'm actually not sure. He was quite vague on what he was going to do." Tristan took a sip of his wine, his expression deep and thoughtful. He truly missed Morgase, missed the love that they had shared. But with Sammael around, it had been too risky.
 
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